"I shall be glad to speak on this very matter," smiled Cadet Prescott, rising. "Gentlemen of the class, I know that we are traveling over a road that, even under the most genial conditions, would be a rough one. Many of us feel that the yearling class is devoting all its energies to making that road a still rougher one."
"Hear! Hear!" cried a dozen at once.
"But, gentlemen," continued the new class president, "next June we shall be yearlings. There will be a new lot of plebes here, and I feel rather certain that we shall treat them just about as we are now being treated."
There were murmurs of dissent at this.
"For generations," continued Cadet Prescott, "the plebe at West Point has had to rough it. You are all familiar with the truism that a soldier must learn to obey before he is fit for command. In much the same way, I fancy, the plebe must travel a rough road before he is thoroughly broken in and fitted to enjoy the delights of full equality and recognition with upper class men.
"We are no more put upon than was every present upper class man during his first year here. When we reach the sublime heights on which the yearlings dwell I believe that we shall look back and appreciate the fact that we truly needed some round thrashing into shape. We shall feel grateful to our present enemies, the yearlings—and we will turn around and help the new lot of plebes through the same kind of first-year life. In the meantime, classmates, I earnestly advise that we establish at least one record here. Let us, from now on, prove ourselves to be the gamest of plebes who have suffered here in many a year. The more patiently we bear it now, in all patience, the better yearlings, the better second class men and first class men we shall be when our time comes. The motto of a famous sovereign is, 'I serve.' Let our plebe class motto be, 'I grin and bear.'"
This wasn't exactly what the plebes had been expecting from their new leader. For a few moments after Dick sat down there was silence. Then a half dozen began to applaud. The noise grew, until half the plebes were cheering.
"Thank you, gentlemen," smiled the class president. "I think we are now well started on the way to becoming useful members of the Army."
"What do you think of our new leader?" one of Bert Dodge's late supporters asked that young man after the meeting had broken up.
"We're going to have a boot-lick president," growled Bert.